


learn to love it

by kinglychan (avius)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst-Free, F/F, Fluff, Found Family, Genderswap, Getting Together, Lesbians!, M/M, Multi, Trans Character, seokhoon are bffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-12-26 16:49:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18286322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avius/pseuds/kinglychan
Summary: Haneul Vernon Chwe appears suddenly in Jihye's life, and she's made to learn everything she thought she knew she liked.





	learn to love it

**Author's Note:**

> i know ~genderswap~ can be seen as controversial/problematic, but as a nonbinary lesbian, i personally only have problems with genderswap as a way to reinforce heteronormativity/cisnormativity. there are some trans characters in this fic (some more explicit than others) and some cis characters, but it’s up to your interpretation! i hate to be that person but if you don’t like this then please don’t read. 
> 
> if they have a different name they use she/her (or she/they) pronouns:  
> jihye - jihoon  
> haneul/vernon - hansol/vernon  
> minkyung - mingyu  
> sooyoung - soonyoung  
> junmei - junhui  
> josie - joshua

 

> _a is for assumptions_

****

Jihye sighs with her whole chest as her fingers snatch on the tangles of her bestfriend’s hair. Seokmin’s cheeks are blushing with the intimacy of it, despite it having been years since they accompanied each other to their respective senior formals and only one or two fewer since they moved in together. They both learned to ignore the betrayal of his blood vessels long before he admitted to needing to be babied every now and then by her (stuttering the words in a nervous way like Jihye didn’t know this painfully obvious truth already). But the routine is nice, Seokmin in boxers and a stretched out shirt that honestly either of them could have bought originally, Jihye herself bundled in a tank tee and boxer briefs. Seokmin hasn’t teared up yet, and despite them knowing each other like the back of their hands, Jihye isn’t sure if she needs to whip out the sobbing-stopping chick flicks as of yet. Jihye holds in another sigh when Seokmin’s blabbering surfaces again.

****

“I don’t even get what I did wrong, y’know? Like I’ve thought about it,” Jihye lets herself snort a tiny bit, “and it just? Doesn’t make sense?”

****

Jihye wants to tell Seokmin that Seungkwan finding a girl hot isn’t the end of the world, that Jihye knows Seungkwan isn’t blind or a misogynist so he’s bound to be enraptured by women at some point, that Jihye kind of hates Seokmin for implying loving girls is a flaw, but she doesn’t because (even if her name means wisdom) she certainly knows very few things other than Seokmin’s tendency for the dramatics.

****

“Maybe, it’s not even about you. He probably wasn’t even thinking about you when he said it.” (She tries her best, really, but apparently that’s the wrong thing to say as the younger whines so hard he rolls of the couch with an inhuman-sounding thump. She nudges his cheek with a toe.) “Just because Seungkwan thinks this Hani- or whoever- is cute, doesn’t mean he’ll go after her, and it doesn’t mean he can’t like you back either.”

****

For someone who falls harder in love than Kim Minkyung falls on her ass in the gym on a day to day basis, Lee Jihye doesn’t have a very good (or substantial) track record in the dating scene. Despite how many ~lesbian vibes~ one tries to omit, living with a resting bitch face and a male friend is apparently enough to deter relationship-hopefuls. Even when she is tempted by Seokmin’s wallowing, she tries not to think about how something clearly must be wrong on her end to have not even had a serious relationship as of yet in her sad twenty-two-year-old life.

****

“Her name,” Seokmin sits up and spits like the girl’s face is inches away from her’s (or maybe Seungkwan’s, Jihye wonders), “is Haneul. And she’s ruined my life.”

****

Jihye shoves her foot against Seokmin’s forehead, pushing him to the ground. “Have you even met her? You might find her pretty too.”

****

Seokmin shimmies away from the couch in disgust. “How dare you- even suggest- that she-” He’s huffing -quite pathetically, Jihye must add- his shirt making squeaky noises as he attempts to move along the floor. “Seungkwan literally invented the word pretty upon birth. And reinvents it every waking moment he takes a breath.”

****

Jihye just rolls her eyes and stands, stepping over his writhing body to gather the plates from their breakfast and start the dishes. “So that’s a no. You already hate her and you’ve never met her? Trans men really do be men, huh.”

****

“ _Jihye-Noona,_ ” Seokmin whines.

****

“I just think it’s funny how much you hate women all of a sudden.” Her tone, crafted very, very well, is serious. Seokmin is suddenly scrambling to grab the dishes from her hands as she walks past.

****

“I don’t- okay, maybe just this one girl-but not because she’s-oh gosh,” he says, and Jihye bursts into laughter. Seokmin joins her. They’re good at that, laughing until they don’t remember why they were upset. It’s helped through many a crisis, as small as unrequited crushes and as big as disownership.

****

“God, it’s so easy to guilt you into doing chores,” Jihye smiles and jumps up onto the counter as Seokmin pushes the sleeves of his shirt up and fills the sink. He whips her exposed thigh with a tea towel before handing it to her.

****

“I always know you’re joking, but one day, when you’re not, organising another next-of-kin would be too much work, so,” he smiles, and Jihye leans forward to press her forehead to his shoulder.

****

“Do you think Haneul is cuddling like this with Seungkwan right now?” Jihye says just to rile him up, and is pleased that it works by the way Seokmin pushes her off onto the countertop. Seokmin’s blush has migrated to his ears, the least ignorable, most legitimate of all of the flushes to grace Seokmin’s face, so Jihye removes the plate in his hands with a laugh. “I mean, what if Seungkwan’s jealous of you and me, too?” She asks, flipping her fragile bleached hair behind her ear. “I would be too, seeing as how handsomely sweet I am-”

****

“You’re very gay, noona. Seungkwan knows this, everyone in the world does.” Seokmin’s still blushing, but the joke is clear in his head now. Jihye looks at him incredulously as he washes the rest of the crockery until he clicks the pieces together. “Oh. But still, Seungkwan could be bi.”

****

Jihye groans, jumping off the counter to stack the plates they’ve washed and dried, “Not Seungkwan, you idiot, Haneul.”

****

Seokmin hums like he’s considering it as he dries his hands. “Mm. I’d call you pretty, I guess.”

****

“You guess? You _guess?_ I hate this family.”

****

 

> _b is for blatancies_

****

Jihye returns from work that afternoon and sheds her bra alongside her shoes in the entryway. Usually, Seokmin says something about her liberation from the oppressive patriarchy to occur more than a metre inside their flat as soon as the door lock clicks, but instead, Jihye is welcomed with a low pitched groan. She isn’t bothered, sliding into her house slippers and rummaging through her work bag to find her headphones and mobile to turn off her data in favour of wifi, until the groan is followed by a much less patient one.

****

“Fuck, what do you want?” she grunts, making a beeline for the kitchen cabinets and rummaging for instant rice. She’s careless with the packaging and the microwave door, straining her ears for any signs of (coherent, human) reply. The microwave beeps before anything, so with rice in hand she shuffles into the doorway to Seokmin’s room.

****

“What are you doing?” she mutters around a mouthful, rice sloshing loudly. Seokmin’s splayed out on his stomach, laptop and phone in front of him on the bed, face smushed into the duvet.

****

“Writing my will,” he says, more so to the bed than Jihye.

****

“And why’s that?” Jihye steps out of her slippers and knees Seokmin’s back until he moves to give her space. Seokmin rolls, hands flailing blindy for his phone to push in Jihye’s un-riced hand.

****

She unlocks it to be greeted immediately by two glowingly happy faces. One of which is immediately recognisable from several late night sessions of tolerating Seokmin’s love-sick rants. Boo Seungkwan is naturally charming, the perfect contradiction of hot-talented and cute-funny, and loved by pretty much anyone who has ever been aware of existence. And has, in this particular instagram post, an arm draped carefree and affectionate over the shoulders of quite possibly the most beautiful person Jihye has ever seen. Their hair is short, but long in the careless way, curling at their ears and eyebrows. Their smile, wide and glinting, is gummy and so full of life that Jihye can almost hear it. Their eyes too, glinting and happy and swirling. (We revise then, that Jihye falls fast, without any substance to the connection required. We must also remember, that nothing substantial has arisen from such affections either, making Jihye as equally skilled in falling out of love - at least in the superficial ways.) Because the constipated sadness that is pulling at Seokmin’s heart shaped lips is probably to do with the fact that the caption reads, _‘happiest when they’re here <3 _’, heart and all.

****

“Click on the tagged.” Seokmin’s voice is so fragile Jihye has to tear her eyes from the screen to check he isn’t crying. He isn’t, but she understands the urgency, clicking through to the profile.

****

“Chwenotchew? Haneul Vernon Chwe- Oh. Haneul,” she says. “Yikes.”

****

Seokmin’s throat makes a choking sound, “Yeah. Yikes.”

****

“That could be friendly-”

****

“If you say that f word again I’ll force that rice down your throat in one go- noona.” Jihye wants to say she wouldn’t exactly mind it, given the efficiency, but the situation doesn’t call for it.

****

“Fine, but like, _platonically-”_

****

“Ji.”

****

Jihye sighs, flopping over his stomach in a poor Jihye-esc excuse for a hug. The rice bowl is set on his chest. “Would you like some of my rice?”

****

Seokmin laughs. “Yes, thankyou.”

****

“Platonically, of course.”

****

Seokmin throws her body weight off of him and onto the floor, and steals her rice as promised.

****

They watch shitty movies before, after and during ordering takeout from Junmei’s aunt’s restaurant, and Jihye only follows @ _chwenotchew_ on instagram once Seokmin goes to the toilet in between courses. Jihye tries to tell herself she is not a shitty friend.

****

She obviously waits until Seokmin is knocked out asleep until she stalks the mystery profile. Her pronouns (she/they) are in the place where a url should be but aside from that and her name, the bio is empty. Her profile pic is an edit of Lady Raincorn. All of the pictures sit in isolation as pockets of art. A blurry selfie here, a sunset there, a funny currios in between pictures of them at art galleries and music shows and dinners at niche bars. She’s effortlessly handsome in all of them. There’s a decent handful of Seungkwan in recent posts, mainly in comment sections than pictures themselves, but Jihye scrolls down long enough until Seungkwan reappears, alongside snaps university parties and study-blog-worthy notes. She’s spent long enough stalking to be embarrassed, but not long enough to be deliriously hallucinating, when she gets a notif from instagram that _@chwenotchew is now following you._ She vaults the phone to the other side of the couch, narrowly missing knocking Seokmin more unconscious than he already is, and lies to herself that it was a bat outside that had made that screeching sound.

****

 

> _c is for coincidences_

****

Jihye doesn’t think about Seokmin’s Seungkwan-and-co-shaped dilemma again for a whole day, which, when jammed into close proximity with an aquarius venus like Seokmin, is a considerably long time. She pulls at her ponytail, fastening back the hair held by fading cream scrunchy, which is getting far too long now, almost at her collar. She never bothers using bobby pins to pull her fringe away from her face because _who has the time,_ so her forehead is plastered with sweat and more hair that she doesn’t bother sweeping away. When Jihye goes to the gym (which is far too often in the eyes of literally every one of her friends beside Seungcheol) she doesn’t think about what she looks like, because she has to think about that in every other space. She has also learned that no one seems to bother the 5’4” woman as long as she can bench more than she herself weighs. So that morning she presses her airpods further into her ears and continues to rep, oblivious to the world outside of her breathing and the rapidfire rapping pumping through her skull. She thinks she’s in the zone as she does nothing but nod in farewell to Seungcheol, zipping up his duffle and leaving early.

****

(“I have a brunch date.”

“Sure you do, big guy.”

“I do so. She’s a chemical engineer and she loves brunch.”

“You’re really queering up het culture, oppa.”

“I’m literally bi, Ji.”).

****

You see, she thinks she’s in the zone until a familiar face is standing in the doorway, laughing at something Seungcheol said and waiting to escort him out. Jihye lets go of the equipment.

****

Haneul looks out of place, her humble stance and vibrant highlighter-yellow beanie a stark contrast to the ego and black lycra that inhabits the gym. But the gummy smile is unmistakable, eyes practically glittering in the usually-unflattering LEDs of the Basement of Testosterone. Jihye distantly thinks that she was very much right (as Haneul’s laugh carries across the room like a melody of fresh cooked rice and staying up until sunrise), until one of the floor trainers jolts her shoulder, asking her to move on from the arm machine if she’s done. By the time she’s hastily apologised and retreated to her water bottle, the pair have left. _Together._

****

Jihye is a rational person. She’s pretty stoic under pressure, has been known to more than once take the reigns willingly in stressful situations with more than adequate outcomes, and isn’t the dullest tool in the shed. But she doesn’t consider the next few decisions as made in her right mind, so she discredits them if ever asked.

****

“Seok.” He answered on the first call. Jihye is more of a texting person, so she could imagine, in retrospect, his concern. “I may or may not have been wrong about gay thing…?”

****

For every part Jihye is rational, she also rarely admits fault. So it’s not exactly her fault that it comes out like a question unintentionally.

****

“Um… okay? What started your gay- I mean, het- crisis in the gym of all places? Out of nowhere?

****

“Not that gay thing! Haneul being gay! I meant Haneul!”

****

Seokmin sighs of relief get sucked back into his lungs. “What.”

****

“She just came to the gym to pick up Seungcheol for a date?” Jihye is already wiping herself with her sweat towel and finding the key card to clock off her session. “They just left.”

****

“Uhhhhhh…” Seokmin is speechless on the line, not speaking until Jihye is literally on the street. “Okay?”

****

“Why aren’t you freaking out?” Jihye says, craning her neck around pedestrians to spot the retreating heads of Seungcheol and presumingly Haneul as they walk down the footpath. She thanks the strength she had to not use Seokmin’s toothbrush to fix her hair this morning, the good karma doing her a favour. She hikes her duffle further up her shoulder and readjusts her grip on her phone. “Anyways, so I’m following them now.”

****

“You’re what? Ji, gosh, chill out for a sec.” The line crackles like Seokmin is actually getting out of bed, which is wild in itself because it is not even 9am yet, but also because it’s only taken him until now.

****

“I am perfectly unchill. Why are _you_ chill?” Jihye huffs, jogging slightly to cross the street before the light turns. The pair ahead laugh together.

****

“Ji. If Haneul is dating Seungcheol, then Seungkwan is single. Theoretically,” Seokmin says, clearly bothered by Jihye’s peculiar behaviour, “This is a good thing.”

****

Jihye stops. Right. This is a good thing. “Right, yes.”

****

Seokmin is baffled into silence. “So…?”

****

Jihye, watching pathetically as the two retreat, very stunned as to why she thought of following them in the first place. There was something about it, she remembers distinctly, an urgent curiosity. They slow walking three blocks away, just visible. Jihye turns away before she can witness anything else.

****

“Uh, sorry about that,” she says curtly. “I’m on my way home.”

****

 

> _d is for desperations_

****

“Noona, I don’t want to beg,” Seokmin whines, trailing the girl around the apartment like a kicked puppy.

****

She glares at him over her shoulder as she tries to search for her laptop charger. She has a paper due at midnight. She does not have time for boys who do not understand the fair exchange of favours. “You should.”

****

“I just might. Just one favour-”

****

_“No.”_ She walks past him, diving under the couch cushions. Her hand brushes something soggy. She wants to puke.

****

“You haven’t even heard what it is yet!” Seokmin’s pout can be heard even from on the floor.

****

She shuffles along the living room floor to the cubbies under the table. “What is it, then?”

****

“Seungkwan asked me out to dinner.”

****

“Fuck, ow,” Jihye’s head collides with the top of the table in shock, due to the appearance of both the charger and Seungkwan’s apparent game which has been absent for twelve-hundred years. She scooches backwards out from under the table, narrowly missing getting kicked in the head by Seokmin’s giddily swinging legs. “Excuse me?”

****

Seokmin is biting away a smug grin, nodding. “Yeah, I know. But he did. I think it’s a group thing, though.” His face falls.

****

Jihye connects the dots quickly enough. “That’s where I come in?”

****

Seokmin nods, offering a hand. “He asked me to invite you. Maybe he’s planning on setting you up with Sooyoung-noona again.”

****

The look on Seokmin’s face is faux-thoughtful, and Jihye wants to punch it away. “Never again,” she says firmly, shaking her head as if to clear the memory of the first and only date she had with the astrology-obsessed, scream-singing, firecracker whirlwind that is Kwon Sooyoung. Seokmin just laughs and brushes a dust-bunny from her shoulder.

****

“Please come?”

****

Jihye sighs, because even if Seungkwan brings along a random lesbian he’s befriended at his performing arts school, she is a good friend and Seokmin deserves a bit of wingwomanship. She looks up to scorch his gaze, dead serious, “No karaoke.”

****

Seokmin laughs and nods, but Jihye can see where his fingers are crossed behind his back. _Men_.

****

Once her shitty computer had restarted due to the beautiful life juice sourced from its charger, JIhye opened every tab required for her International Management essay for her business elective and got to work. She was going fine until she got an email from Seungcheol, his half of the essay attached and already ready to be added into the group project’s file. (Because Jihye is Jihye, she had immediately offered to be the one to make the final file, meaning she had full artistic and editorial control. Seokmin had rolled his eyes knowingly when she had mentioned it.)

****

The email could have been it, but she clearly, a weak and very gay woman, collapsed to her curses and sent him a simple text.

****

_‘how was the date?’_

****

Her phone starts to vibrate on the desktop not a moment later.

****

“Hey Ji!”

****

Jihye sighs, so much for being discreet. She rolls in her desk chair until she can toe the door closed, and rolls back to reply, “Hey Coups-oppa.”

****

“Are you done with the essay too?” His voice is too enthused for the subject matter. Jihye doesn’t comment on it.

****

“No, was just about to start. We can chat, though.” Seungcheol mutters something about _poor work habits_ but the mic distorts his whispering. “So, the date?”

****

“Yes!” Seungcheol’s voice got even higher and happier. “So good. She’s perfect, Ji. She’s so much but it’s like I can’t get enough.”

****

Jihye snorts, trying to not notice the panging of her heart. “Sounds like a Gemini.”

****

Seungcheol laughs, heartily, and Jihye feels guilty for her lack of enthusiasm too. “She is, actually. Every sign.”

****

Jihye laughs then. Sooyoung was also a ‘full-time Gemini’, as she had phrased it. It was one of the first things she had said in the bar before karaoke, whilst Seungkwan and Seokmin were attempting to flirt with each other and not noticing the other’s attempts. Seungcheol’s speaking again.

****

“You should meet her. Not in like a lesbian way because, although she’s bi, I think we’re gunna go for a second date. But I think you two could be good friends.”

****

She can’t even kid herself anymore. Jihye knows he’s talking about Haneul, which makes things ten times worse. So, Haneul is bi, but it doesn’t make it any easier to remind herself that Seungcheol is probably going to suck her face off before Jihye will even meet her. (Which. Doesn’t bother her in the slightest. Of course.)

****

“Maybe,” Jihye says, heart clearly not in it. “How’d you meet?”

****

“You know Boo Seungkwan, right?” Seungcheol says, and Jihye has half a mind to end the call right there. She doesn’t realise she actually _has_ until the phone vibrates in her hand to show a text from Seungcheol consisting only of question marks. She makes up a dumb excuse, something about Seokmin needing absolute silence throughout the apartment to sleep, and puts on the same playlist she listens to in the gym. Jihye quickly changes it to another, equally upbeat and motivating playlist, as soon as the images of Haneul from earlier in the week flash through her mind.

****

 

> _e is for epiphanies_

****

That Friday night, Seokmin is a clamour of nerves and discarded button downs. He’s running across the hallway to either closet in either room, shirtless to Jihye’s dismay, (because the last time he was shirtless for this long, he caught a cold, and Jihye has better things to do then care for an ill ridden adult man). He’d stolen a leather pencil skirt from the depths of Jihye’s closet, an item so long-forgotten Jihye assumed he had procured it out of thin air. But his thighs did look stunning in it, but it was masculine enough to ‘hide’ his wide hips so there wasn’t much Jihye could do ro argue at that point.

****

“Don’t you want to at least put your binder on before you try shirts?” Jihye shouts from her vantage point on the couch, feet resting on the table and legs instead serving the purpose of holding her food. She isn’t ready, only showered and got back into her loungewear. Seokmin complained that she’ll smell all gross again, but didn’t put up much of a fight when she protested that she couldn’t get ready until Seokmin had raided her shit. It was routinely by now.

****

“Not binding,” he hollers as he slides across back into his own room. Now that took Jihye by surprise.

****

“Huh?” she asks, pausing the recording of the documentary on communism she was watching and marking the minutes down on the communal living room notepad.

****

“Not binding,” he huffs, like he’s trying to put on something tight. Jihye sighs and pushes herself off the couch.

****

“Do I get an explanation?” Jihye wanders into his room, a compressive tube shirt stuck on his arms around his face.

****

“Help.” Jihye stands on the bed beside him and yanks until he is freed from the deadly tube top monster. It’s not Jihye’s. “Okay so, I don’t like, hate my chest, right? You know my dysphoria comes from other things, mainly. And T is helping but it’s not like I’ll be able to afford top surgery for a while.” Seokmin continues to rummage, so Jihye flops onto his bed and pulls out the scrunchie in her hair to detangle it. She steals the comb from Seokmin’s bedside table. “And Seungkwan has always only ever seen me binded, right? Like does he even know I’m trans?”

****

Jihye sees where he’s going with it. “I’d say so, yeah. But you’re picking tonight to be the Big Discussions night?”

****

Seokmin huffs, turning around with a petulant stare. “Don’t make me second guess myself.”

****

Jihye throws her hands in the air, watching silently as Seokmin throws a caramel button up over his broadening shoulders and sucks in a breath to french tuck the front. Jihye’s hair is almost dry, so she hops up without fanfare and squeezes his arm. “Good luck tonight.”

****

She’s out the door and in her own room when Seokmin yells out a panicked, “Wait. You’re still coming right?”

****

Jihye grabs what she wants, black jeans and a red button up, same silky flowing make as Seokmin’s, and changes quicker than it takes Seokmin to decide on a pair of socks.

****

The first venue (as Seokmin had said,  echoing Seungkwan’s ominous words) was a local gay bar. Jihye wasn’t a partier, but Seokmin got drunk fast without Jihye’s watching eye, so she’d been on one or two occasions. She didn’t like parties, because they were cramped and loud and messy, and she’d rather prefer drinking over meat with close friends. She’s about to voice this to Seokmin as they walk into the loud bar when someone behind her does it for her.

****

“Did we really have to come here? Meat is equally as wooing,” the pretty voice whines. It’s a crystalised voice, the type that splinters slightly in the throat - the type that fuels a fire in Jihye’s heart. But then Seokmin is slipping away from her side to hug Boo Seungkwan and Haneul Vernon Chwe is right there and also groaning about the choice of venue and Lee Jihye is beyond the help of the universe.

****

“Hi Minnie! Hi Jihye, nice to see you again!” Seungkwan says, loudly and cheerfully over the mulling noise in the room. He pulls out of the hug to smile at Jihye but doesn’t try to hug her, lesson well learnt. He gestures to Haneul for an introduction that Seokmin and Jihye pretend is needed. “And this is Haneul.”

****

She’s smiling calmly but Jihye notices her fingers fidget with the metal loops hanging from her belt. She’s blushing. “Hi. I’m Haneul but most people call me Vernon.”

****

Seokmin says brightly, “We know,” like that's a normal thing to say upon a first meeting. The colour goes straight to Haneul’s ears. She’s also staring at Seokmin’s chest. Seokmin shares her blush once she catches up on what’s going on.

****

“Oh, I decided not to bind tonight, if that’s okay,” he says, mainly to Seungkwan, but shoots tentative glances to gauge Haneul’s reaction.

****

“Your tits look rad, oppa,” Haneul says after a pause, reaching out for a fist bump. It’s very clumsy and insensitive, but she seems genuine, so Jihye tries to not laugh at the whiplash from the way she wanted to punch her head in a second ago.

****

Seungkwan nudges her shoulder with his and pulls Seokmin away to chat about something with sparkles in his eyes.

****

“Sorry, Jihye-ssi, uh,” Haneul scratches the back of her neck, her t-shirt (white with forest green stripes) tugging out slightly from the front of her jeans, not that Jihye is looking or anything. “I do want to be here, I swear.”

****

It’s pretty evident that Seungkwan was hoping the night would serve as another blind date, so Jihye decides to make the most of it. She smiles at the younger. “Call me unnie.” She leans forward, into her space with newfound confidence, and whispers conspiratorially, “And I don’t really want to be either. Bars aren’t my thing.”

****

Haneul sighs softly, relieved but still shocked. “Oh. That’s chill.”

****

Jihye can’t keep the soft grin from her face. She loops an arm through the younger’s and tugs her over to where Seokmin and Seungkwan are blatantly flirting on barstools. “Let’s try convincing dumb and dumber to take us to a barbecue or a chinese place, unnie’s shout.”

****

Haneul laughs, all teeth and no inhibition, and nods along, but Jihye can help but remember the last time she had heard such a sound, as she watched her leave the gym with Seungcheol.

****

She punches Seokmin’s arm with a force accidentally propelled by envy. “Oi, Seokmin. Let’s go to Junmei’s aunt’s.”

****

Seokmin whips his head to the girls, seemingly have forgotten they were even there. “What? Fine, yeah sure.”

****

Seungkwan nods and drops his hand from Seokmin’s thigh, which Jihye hadn’t even noticed, and they leave without even ordering a drink.

****

The sidewalk is narrow enough that Seokmin and Seungkwan have to walk side by side, ahead of the other duo, but wide enough that the brushing of their knuckles is entirely voluntary. Haneul falls in step beside Jihye, vibrantly red and chunky wedges clunking as they tread beside Jihye’s own lace up boots.

****

Jihye’s mumbling before she can stop herself. “So, how did you meet Seungcheol-oppa?”

****

Haneul seems shocked by the question, either from zoning out or the question itself, because face goes blank and a furrow appears in her brow. (Jihye _doesn’t_ get the urge to push herself onto tippy toes and kiss it away. Jihye also _doesn’t_ then have a crisis about the way Haneul isn’t tall but tall enough to have her shadow cover Jihye’s when she’s a few steps behind.)

****

“How do _you_ know oppa?” she asks, pure curiosity like a kid in an observatory and maybe Jihye wants to take her stargazing just to hear her voice. “He’s my _cousin_.” Jihye stops walking, ears flushing red quicker than ever before. “Wait, how did you even know I know him?”

****

“Uh, the, uh. Gym. And uni. We’re friends.” So maybe the whole date thing had been a misunderstanding on Jihye’s part. “You picked him up last week.”

****

Haneul seems to connect the dots quicker than Seokmin ever has, for which Jihye is immensely grateful. “Oh, before his date,” she laughs, a tinkering sound, but Jihye doesn’t even feel like she’s laughing at her, and doesn’t even feel the usual defensive-mechanism coldness missing from her tongue.

****

“I’m so sorry,” she says, all but face-palming.

****

Haneul shakes her head, a friendly (?) hand falling onto the shorter’s shoulder. “Easy mistake. Though he’s not my type, cousin or not.”

****

Jihye wants to ask (really really wants to ask) what exactly is Haneul’s type, but Seokmin and Seungkwan have stopped walking and they’ve made it to Junmei’s aunt’s without Jihye noticing.

****

 

> _f is for fondness_

****

Junmei has flour on her nose from dumpling dough and shenzhen sauce on her black apron. Her long hair is tied back into a messy topknot, and she’s frazzled as she ducks and weaves between tables with long limbs. But she’s leaving charming smiles behind for rowdy groups of students and gossiping middle-aged women alike, sweeping across the floor with towers of soup bowls and drinks and dumpling trays. She looks more elegant than most people could ever try to be. The bell above the door jingles when the group shuffles in, Junmei’s head snapping up expecting customers. Her face brightens tenfold to a less focused smile at the sight of them, holding up a finger to make them wait to be served. It’s not long before Junmei is sidling up to them and giving kisses on both of Jihye’s cheeks, much to her dismay. She does the same to Seungkwan and Seokmin, but pauses when she comes across Haneul.

****

“Have we met? I’m Junmei,” she says, her deep accented voice lulling over the four before she pulls Haneul closer and kisses her cheeks too.

****

“V-Vernon,” she stutters, and Jihye relates. When she first met Junmei in junior year, she too had been in a shock of gay panic. Junmei, oblivious to it, had that effect on nearly everyone.

****

“Let’s get my friends a seat, huh? Standing around and chatting won’t fill your bellies.” She claps her hands decisively and ushers them to a table jammed in between many others. The neighbouring patrons pull their chairs in to make way and joyously greet them. It’s overwhelmingly hospitable, but Jihye supposed it runs in the family.

****

Seungkwan not to subtly pushes Haneul to the seat nearest to Jihye and slips beside Seokmin into couch against the wall. Seokmin just smiles up at Junmei and asks about her girlfriend.

****

Junmei beams larger, a feat only possible for her. “Josie is working so hard! I’m so proud of her. She got an internship with a really big firm last month.”

****

“Ah, send my congrats to Josie-noona!” Seokmin smiled, eyes dipping into crescents, Seungkwan beside him slowly melting in a puddle of Seokmin-induced love-mush.

****

Seungkwan goes to order for the lot of them, talking easily with Junmei about the restaurant and her mother’s health, so Jihye casually turns to Haneul to confront her.

****

“So…” Jihye says lowly. Haneul’s head snaps up from where she was intently examining the cutlery.

****

“Mm?” Haneul tilts her head to one side. Her hair flops around, causing Jihye to notice that she’s wearing earrings that look like tiny handcrafted ramyeon bowls.  

****

“Why did you go on a date with your cousin?” Jihye asks, deadpan and foolish. Haneul giggles.

****

“I just wanted brunch,” she says simply. “I stuck to the other side of the café though. I didn’t want to see oppa and Sooyoung-unnie sucking face.”

****

Jihye chokes on food that hasn’t even been ordered yet. “What?! Sooyoung?!”

****

Haneul seems a little frightened. “Yeah? Oppa’s new girlfriend.”

****

Jihye wants to laugh at the irony, but also doesn’t want to discuss such a failed first date when Haneul hasn’t been scared off yet.

****

“I didn’t know they were dating,” Jihye says, hoping the younger will drop the subject. “So, what is your type then?”

****

Haneul smiles, rolling her eyes. “That’s kind of obvious, isn’t it?”

****

Jihye is too stubborn to accept that she might have misread some signs, or that she may have missed something entirely about the girl. Haneul had barrel rolled into everything so far, and Jihye had simply maintained pace out of instinct. But maybe Haneul had a girlfriend or a boyfriend or maybe Seokmin was right all along, and Haneul and Seungkwan were together and this had all been an elaborate prank. Apparently, this stubborn-but-not-stubborn-enough conflict is easily read across her expression, because Haneul lays a gentle hand, with blunt nails painted lilac, on Jihye’s shoulder like it’s the easiest feat in the world.

****

“Unnie. Stop stressing ultimatums for a second and enjoy our first date, yeah?”

****

“F-first? First date?” Jihye feels her ears growing brighter and redder than the sun. She isn’t usually this easy to read. Haneul had simply walked into her life and turned everything 372 degrees; all the way around, and then some.

****

Their food arrives, and Haneul loads her cheeks with food hurriedly. Jihye is content doing the same.

****

Seungkwan looks up amusedly. “Finally found someone who’s a match for your ‘ _tummy monster_ ’?” he asks her best friend, a fond gaze laden with mischievous glints.

****

Jihye is very engaged, swallowing the mouthful of hotpot to ask, in very accented and cringey english, “ _Tummy monster_?”

****

Seungkwan looks too pleased. Haneul shifts in her seat, jamming more and more food into her mouth.

****

“When we were five, she had just come here from the states,” Seungkwan began, “and spoke more English than Korean, so her dad would help translating and teaching her. But one day she was complaining about the lack of food at our daycare and-“

****

Haneul puts her hand back on Jihye’s arm to interrupt, “It’s just an inside joke about a monster inside my stomach who must be kept happy with lots of food. It’s not very dignified,” she shoots Seungkwan a look (he just raises an eyebrow), “so sorry you had to hear that.”

****

Seungkwan says something about ‘suddenly caring about dignity’ under his breath and Seokmin sniggers, but Jihye just smiles her best please-stop-stressing smile to Haneul.

****

“You know,” (And apparently it’s Seokmin’s turn to ruin the scraps of the ‘first date’ Jihye so desperately wants to work out.) “It’s not often someone can keep up with Jihye, either. She once ate nine bowls of rice in one meal. Match made in heaven.” He winks too, as if the line wasn’t cheesy enough. (Jihye would find it hard to believe that not so long ago he had thought Haneul was a threat to his lovelife, if she hadn’t endured the whole ordeal first hand.)

****

Jihye’s ears are as red as the hotpot sauce and Haneul’s fidgeting with the chopsticks but it’s not nearly as tortuous because she’s still slipping smiles Jihye’s way and Junmei’s family is really good at cooking. Seokmin looks overjoyed as Seungkwan whispers in his ear, and all traces of doubt are missing in the moments between.

****

Jihye asks about America, learns that Haneul was born in New York, grew up here with Seungkwan, went back after university but missed it far too much not to return. Jihye tells her, when she asks, that she’s studying music and management, that she’s right handed, that she doesn’t talk to her parents anymore but it doesn’t matter because she has Seokmin. Haneul tells her, shyly, that maybe she has her now too.

 

 

> _g is gravitations_

 

Jihye doesn’t want the night to end, and it’s only very early in the night regardless, especially by Seokmin’s standards. And she’s learnt more about Haneul in such a short time than humanly possible for someone with her ‘low socialising libido’ (as Seokmin says). But she’s more than stuffed full with dinner and the couple (?) across from her are inches away from being in each others laps. So much for Seokmin’s certainty that Seungkwan isn’t into him.

 

“So,” she clears her throat, trying to not notice the way the shoulders of the girl beside her deflate in her peripheral vision.

 

Seokmin claps his hands in response to something Seungkwan just whispered, and turns to the girls. “Karaoke time?”

 

 _There goes that promise then_.

 

“Uhh,” Haneul starts, kind of awkwardly. “I’m not that much of a singer. I don’t think-”

 

“Nonsense!” Seungkwan cries, ignoring Haneul's silent pleas for help. He turns mischievously to Jihye instead. “Vernonnie goes absolutely wild in the karaoke rooms.”

 

Haneul’s ears are already red from the beers shared, but she blushes even further. “I can’t sing very well. But I like hiphop.”

 

That’s motivation enough for Jihye to revert on her ‘no karaoke dates’ policy. She smiles softly, still giving the younger a way out if needed. “There’s no pressure. It might be fun?”

 

Haneul nods shyly and stands up, as if trying to escape Jihye’s gaze. The quartet pay quickly and leave with yet another kiss to the cheek from Junmei, and spill out onto the street. Seungkwan’s head is buried in his phone.

 

“The nearest is maybe two blocks from here? We could catch an uber to a nicer place but I really cannot be bothered to wait.”

 

Seokmin nods, clutching around his arm, and presses a kiss to his shoulder without thought. Jihye and Haneul watch amusedly as he belatedly realises what he has done, and tries to extract himself from Seungkwan’s arm. Seungkwan, apparently unbothered, turns his head and returns with a peck Seokmin’s shoulder, perfectly in line with his lips. Seokmin looks red and about to explode. Jihye reaches out for Haneul’s arm and tugs slightly to get her to start walking to karaoke.

 

“We better give them some space,” she giggles. Haneul looks a little shocked at the sound.

 

“Um, yes. Talking will help them.”

 

Jihye nods, releasing her arm before she runs the risk of never ever letting go, and tucks her hands into her jean pockets. Their feet match in step, and Jihye gets a sense of déjà vu. “They’re so…”

 

“Cute?” Haneul supplies.

 

“Messy,” Jihye finishes with a laugh, and Haneul laughs too.

 

By the time they reach the karaoke place and are settled in a room, Jihye’s gradually feeling more and more tired. Luckily, Seokmin and Seungkwan hog the machine for the better half of an hour, switching between ballad duets (to which the duo spent mainly showing off) and upbeat girl group songs (to which they knew all of the choreo). She and Haneul didn’t get much of an opportunity to talk over the music, but the silent company was comforting. She almost let out a whine when the other stood up, but quickly collected herself once Haneul took the remote and began to play an American rap song. She noticed it quickly, it was one of her favourites from her workout playlist, See You Again by Tyler the Creator;  the dagger of fate twisting wondrously in her shuddering heart. Haneul’s earlier words echoed through her mind like something in a cheesy drama, so she, purely on impulse and maybe a little bit of love, grabbed the second mic from Seokmin’s hand and sung the opening vocal lines.

 

(And she’ll swear later, to Seokmin once they get home and giggle like school children, that yes she knows she can sing but she wasn’t trying to show off. The truth of the matter is that she can’t remember her motivations before so, because she was too caught up in the awe on Haneul’s face, and the dips and lulls of her voice as she rapped, and the way she sat reached out calmly for Jihye’s hand to pull her to standing, and the way neither of them let go.)

 

 

> _h is for_ ~~_happiness_ ~~ _haneul_

 

Haneul’s in a lilac lace bralette, soft sweatpants low on her hips and three scrunchies stacked on her wrist. The sections of her hair that are overgrown are held off her face in a tiny apple sprout, some unruly curls still tucking onto her cheekbones despite the effort. Her tongue is poking out in concentration, face covered in a garrish lime green facemask and nails raking bluntly through Jihye’s wet hair. She hasn’t noticed Jihye is observing her in the smudge-ridden mirror, observing the warm press of her bare stomach against Jihye’s back, observing the cracks in her lips from a lack of lip balm as she hums every song that plays. There’s no more remnants of dye in her freshly purple hair, and the conditioner almost fully rinsed, but Haneul’s hands haven’t stopped combing.

 

“Hey,” she says, once the Flower Boy album finishes and Jihye is queuing the next album. She grabs all of Jihye’s freshly cut bangs and pulls them back against her chest, the hair blending in with the intricacies of the bralette. “We’re matching.”

 

Jihye looks up at her girlfriend's reflection once the next album starts to play, rolling her eyes at Haneul’s excitement. Haneul doesn’t pay her any mind, ducking to swiftly kiss the crown of her exposed forehead. Jihye mutters a gentle ‘thank you baby’ and Haneul straightens her back and drops the hair. Her cheeks bloom red like roses, as if it’s the first time she’s heard those words.

 

The click of the rice cooker that Seungkwan had bought for Seokmin, as it switches from cooking to warming, snaps Haneul back into motion. Jihye almost whines at the loss of contact. But her therapist’s voice is in her head telling her that people, no matter how much they get you, still need words. So she untucks her legs and spins on the stool until her back presses against the sink.

 

“Nonnie,” she calls out, even though the younger has only stepped a foot away to wipe her hands. Her legs latch quietly around her waist and tug her to stand in front of her. Haneul is still quiet, but her hands latch easily onto Jihye’s thighs. Haneul smiles like dusk and freshly cooked rice and warm bathroom lighting, and Jihye realises, maybe not even for the first time, that happiness has a different meaning by Haneul’s side. “You know I love you, right?”

 

It's the first time either of them have said it, but not the first moment they've known it. Her smile is three parts gummy, twelve parts radioactive happiness, and Jihye is in love. “I love you too, my boysenberry.”

 

“That nickname is not staying," she says begrudgingly, pretending she isn't floating on cloud nine.

 

Haneul just laughs softly, and presses another soft kiss to her furrowed brows, “You’ll learn to love it.”

 

And she has.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! talk to me on twitter [@kinglychan](https://twitter.com/kinglychan)!  
> (also i sincerely apologise for the cringy romanised use of honorifics lol)


End file.
